


Blind Trust

by oneatatime



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt understood anyway. Matt always understood.</p><p>Fucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butyoumight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/gifts).



The problem with being friends with a masked vigilante was that sometimes what happened to him spilled over onto you.

The problem with being friends with a _blind_ masked vigilante was that the guy had no fuckin' clue when one of his foes was armed with a light gun amongst other things, and so he couldn't warn you about it when you both got ambushed while trying to shift some stuff, and so that's the story of how Foggy found himself bent double with an armful of legal files and a hand over his face, eyes streaming, gasping in pain. 

There was thudding, and Matt saying something about "he is _off limits_ ", except the way he said 'he' sounded more like a growl. Foggy was almost sorry he couldn't actually watch this, but then again seeing Matt fight tended to scare the crap out of him for Matt's sake. 

He tried to make a comment about Matt defending his honour, when Matt heavy breathed his way back to him in his corner in the little alley, but it came out as more of a sobbing laugh. 

Matt understood anyway. Matt always understood.

Fucker.

"He ran. Your eyes, right? Hey, let me see," he said, fury and worry and gentleness in his voice. 

It was ridiculously, reflexively difficult. He'd been beaten up once or twice in his time, and it always sucked, of course. Being in pain, not wanting anyone to touch. But eyes were somehow different. He couldn't unclench for a moment from where he was crumpled against the wall, but then he took a breath, and sat up a little straighter, and pulled his hand down. Matt waited patiently, but Foggy could hear by the catch in his breathing that he was either nursing a cracked rib, or desperately worried, or both. 

There was a dog barking in the distance, and the sound of a police siren. 

"I trust you," Foggy mumbled. 

A pained chuckle in response, then fingertips on his cheek. Matt was careful to give him warning like that, to touch an un-sore part before drifting his fingers carefully across Foggy's eyelids. Foggy swallowed, and tried to force his eyes open a little further. He couldn't see a damn thing. Still streaming, still sore, like every time he'd opened his eyes underwater in a heavily chlorinated pool, only multiplied by about a thousand. 

"Seems okay." Matt sighed, and Foggy just about heard the attempt at a grin. "But what do I know. I'm blind." 

"So'm I," Foggy protested.

"What did he hit you with, anyway? I thought maybe it was... maybe it was something else."

Foggy heard the fear, then, and he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. Didn't help, but it didn't make it worse, either. He fumbled for Matt's shoulder, gripped it tightly. He didn't want to be blind, but he also didn't want Matt sounding like that. "No projectile. No acid. Just a helluva lot of light." 

Matt breathed a huge breath, and hugged him. "...then it'll probably get better in an hour or two."

Foggy wanted to question that, but then he thought about how much Matt would've read up on blindness over the years, and he thought about the little bits of reading he'd done himself, here and there. And then he was mostly thinking about how Matt was taking the files off him and getting an arm around him. 

"I can't stay here? - I can't stay here," Foggy sighed, resigned. They were walking the files back to the apartment. No car, no taxi, no bus. Probably pretty stupid through this neighbourhood anyway, and when you put that together with Matt's general ability to attract all kinds of lowlifes, that made it extra double stupid with whipped cream on top. He wanted to get out of here. Not wait for a mythical ambulance that'd probably never come. 

One of the craziest things was the way it affected his balance, he found. Matt was solid under his arm, against his side, and he was accustomed enough to moving with Matt to be able to pick up on things like changes in terrain. Matt made the occasional soft comment to warn him of dog crap, or litter, or potholes. So he didn't feel like he was gonna trip, but other than that, he felt like he was dizzy and ungrounded. 

"We'll get you back to my apartment. It's closer. Then I can rinse your eyes out properly and get you a coffee. And if you don't start feeling better - "

"I then get special abilities and a natty super suit, right? I was thinking something in kelly green - "

Matt snorted, then continued, "- then I'll take you to the clinic."

They stopped at the edge of the street while cars whizzed by a few inches in front of them. 

"Okay. Matt........ you do think my sight'll come back?" Foggy hated how fucking vulnerable he sounded, but most of all he hated the words that'd just come out of his mouth. Of all the douchebag things to say. They started to cross and he started to scramble for words. "No, wait, never mind, that was an asshole thing to say, I know it won't be the end of the world if I don't ever get my eyes back again properly, and besides..."

He trailed off on the far side of the street because Matt had pushed him into a wall and was kissing him. The bricks were hard and uneven against his butt and shoulders. Matt's lips were soft against his. 

Matt pulled back, breathless, stroking Foggy's hair back from his face. "And besides, you're allowed to be scared. But you should get better. You trust me, right?" 

Foggy inhaled, and pushed himself upright. He started to wobble, and reached for Matt, who shoved him back into the wall and laughed when Foggy's shoulder rebounded painfully. 

"Sure. I trust you to be a dick," Foggy grumbled. He grabbed onto Matt again, and Matt grabbed onto him. 

Matt was warm against him. 

It'd be okay. One way or another.


End file.
